A/N: So next chapter. Yeah, here it is. Due to writer's block this took me way longer than it should have. R&R please. And be nice.

Edmund awoke. He had a strange feeling in his gut and his head felt like it was in a fog. It was the strangest sensation he had ever felt in his life, yet peculiarly exciting. It was impossible for him to describe. It was a mixture of excitement, anticipation, confusion, love, anxiety, and so many other emotions that he was officially baffled that one could have so many emotions all at once. He had a son. A son. It was an odd thing to know this, yet he did not know it until last night, or very early that morning, depending on how he looked at it. Why had Elaina kept this from him for so long? Well, how would she have told him for that matter? Write it in a letter?Yes, he beats me like a mangy dog. By the by, I'm pregnant with your son. But why hadn't she come sooner if the Tisroc was gone for so many months at a time?

Just then Elaina stirred next to him. She readjusted herself, laying her head on his shoulder, her hand skimming lightly across his bare chest.

"Good morning," she said quietly with a sigh.

"Good morning," he replied. "Actually I think it might be the early afternoon."

"I could care less what time it is," she said, laughing softly. Then she grew serious and turned her soft gray gaze to his deep brown. "Do you want to know something?"

"Sure."

"This is the first time in a long time I have looked forward to being alive." Tears appeared in her eyes instantly. "I don't want to go back, Edmund. Don't let them find me." Somewhere in the midst of what she was saying, she had started crying. Not just simple tears rolling down her cheeks, but intense weeping to the point where her body was shaking. Edmund wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head.

"I won't let them find you. I swear I won't let them find you. In fact, I'm going to make sure they can never find you."

"Promise me this: I have the pleasure of ending Killian's life," she said bleakly.

"As long as I get Kemen and the Tisroc," he replied with equal grimness. It was hard for him to believe that they were discussing this, which they could kill and which of the two of them would kill the hideous cretins. All of the emotions in his stomach seemed to have quieted down and there was a single emotion to replace the million and one others: an eerie placidity, a calmness that scared him. He wanted to kill them. That was it and he was at peace knowing that he was going to kill them. He even went a step forward, deciding that he was looking forward to torturing them to death. It almost frightened him.

"Let's hurry and get it over with."

"It is far easier to confuse one's enemies by being something one is not," Karlens answered, thrusting his sword right as Elaina parried the attack. "Nice."

"Really? Well that explains a great deal," Elaina replied in the middle of a spinning kick.

"You must admit, I'm not much different than who I really am. Keep your sword up. If you let it down in the middle of hand to hand combat you have no way of protecting yourself from an attack by weapon."

"Right."

"Ouch!" he cried as she managed to slash at his thigh. "That's going to leave a mark. Come here!" He threw down the sword and charged her, laughing.

"Ah! No stop it!" she squealed as he chased her around the courtyard and finally managed to tackle her to the ground and tickled her sides until she was begging him to stop. He relented and offered her his hand to help her up. She slapped it away and stood, brushing off the front of her tunic and picking splinters out of her hose. She adamantly refused to train in a dress.

"Karlens, you are a tactical genius and quite possibly the greatest swordsman I have ever known but when you encounter someone you don't know you act as though you are a total buffoon."

"Exactly my point. If I'm unsure of their true intentions I play the fool in the hopes that they'll underestimate me and not see me as a threat. That way, they are the real fools and I am the mastermind."

"That's brilliant."

"I'm a brilliant sort of person."

Sparring with wooden swords was not exactly what he thought Elaina would be good at. But the more he watched her, the more he realized that there was far more to her than met the eye. She was talented, to be sure, more talented than many of the men in his military. Peter flinched as she hit his shoulder with the flat of her sword then a brought a heavy kick to meet his chest. He stumbled backwards, startled by her agility.

"Good, very good," he said, massaging the bruise.

"I know," she replied somewhat tauntingly.

"Alright, again."

And again she parried his attack and by the end of the practice, she had managed to steal his sword twice, hit his face with the flat, and give him a bloody lip from a much unsuspected left hook with her closed fist. She was fierce. Peter had not expected her to know what she was doing but she had definitely proven him wrong. When they paused for a rest, he decided to ask her about her skills.

"Where did you learn all of this?" he asked.

"Learn what?"

"All of the—" he made a few gestures with his sword.

"Oh, that," she sighed. "I learned it from my older brother."

"I thought you only had one brother."

"I do now."

"Wait, what...oh," he caught the meaning of her statement. "I'm sorry."

"Well, it happens," was her short reply, almost curt. There was an indecipherable expression on her face, a mixture of sadness and regret.

Elaina was a completely different person. When he first met her, he thought her a giddy, giggling, immature girl. Now he saw a very grown up woman who had gone through much more than he knew. "You've changed."

"People tend to do that. But I haven't really. I'm willing to bet that you didn't like me when I first came here."

"Well..."

"I didn't think so. But that was what I was trying to do. Karlens, my older brother, told me that if I was ever in a situation where I questioned a person's motives or friendship, I should play the fool so if they turn out to be an enemy, they might underestimate me. That way they are the fool."

"I'm not sure I completely follow you."

"You don't know me as Edmund knows me. He knows me, the real me, not the tittering schoolgirl that I presented myself as to you. So I figured, well, they see me this way, why change it?"

"So you lied to us?"

"Huh," her brow furrowed. "I've never thought of it that way. I guess so."

"You're a very good actress then. I never would have suspected you to be clever." He chuckled.

"Hey," she hit his knee with the sword playfully. "Well I should be. I've had to act my whole life, pretending I'm happy when I'm not. Pushing back all of the grief and the anger so my people wouldn't see..." she trailed off for a moment. "I've lost my mother, my brother, my sisters, my father, Edmund and so many friends I can't begin to count them. Well Edmund isn't really gone so that's better."

"How did you lose your sisters?" he asked before he could stop himself.

"They were taken one day," she said after a moment. "We were playing hide-and-seek in the forest when we were children and I never found them. I looked for hours and hours. When I couldn't find them, I ran to my father and told him what had happened. My family was devastated. They never had a proper burial, simply a memorial service." Her face was grim and again there was that look of sadness but was quickly overcome by an expression of detestation then again replaced by some sort of resolve. "There were two of them: Elicia was three and Emmaline was five. I was seven, Killian was six and Karlens was ten. Why is it that I lose the people who are most important to me?" The question seemed more self directed than to him. Suddenly she stood. "Alright, let's go again."